


The Bug with No Name

by SwiftyBoy



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, F/M, but im saying it gets a bit edgy, i don't know if it really is, im calling this 'edgy'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 08:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13407225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwiftyBoy/pseuds/SwiftyBoy
Summary: Marinette and her father move to a new town out west, but with the rumors of a growing gang, their move may not be as peaceful as they wanted.





	The Bug with No Name

**Author's Note:**

> Just another warning, this story contains:  
> \- Graphic depictions of violence   
> \- Depiction/Mention of sexual intercourse and prostitution

The back wheel of a wagon slammed against a rock, vibrating its wood and jolting Marinette awake. She pulled down the blanket that covered her body and stared up at the cloth roof of her temporary travelling home. She sat up and rested her head against a box of her clothes. “How much longer?” She asked her father, keeping her eyes closed.

 

“We’re almost there, sweetheart,” a deep voice travelled through the cloth of the wagon.

 

Marinette let the vibrations of the wooden wheels against the dirt calm her nervous body. As the wagon shook, it started to feel like she was being rocked back and forth, as if she were a baby in her mother’s arms again. She began to hum the lullaby that would soothe her to sleep. She knew she was probably too old to be sung a lullaby, but she always kept it in her mind to remind herself of her mother.

 

Marinette pulled herself off the box and onto her stomach, staring out the back of the wagon. The view had been the same for nearly a month, brown dirt and blue sky.  Occasionally, there would be a bird or a tumbleweed, she wished for anything to change up the brown and blue she had sunk her eyes into for the entire wagon ride.

 

Before they left, Marinette begged her dad to take more than just the essentials, but he stood his ground. It had been nearly six months since she had seen a real bed or had a full meal. She spent the entire wagon ride imagining what it would be like out West. Her father had always talked about it as if it were some sort of magical place where, if you work hard enough, you can get anything you want. 

 

Marinette didn’t believe him. 

 

It is not that she thought her father was lying, she just did not believe in what she thought to be a fairytale, a story one would make for a child. 

 

As Marinette let out a deep sigh, she looked back at the dirt path behind them and at the wagon marks that stretched on farther than her eyes could see. They had come so far to escape the life they were once happy with.

 

Her parents ran a small bakery in the good part of town, with the same routine every day. The three of them would get up before the crack of dawn to make sure that the businessmen would get their fresh baked goods before they had to be at their jobs. Marinette always imagined that heaven would be like her morning routine, waking up to the smell of fresh baked goods in the morning, spending your day making things that would make them smile.

 

Marinette’s day dream was broken by a sound she hadn’t heard in months, the sound of a horse’s gallop. “Do you hear that?” she screamed towards her father. She turned around, looking for safety in the man steering the wagon.

 

“We’re getting close to town, so it’s probably one of the locals.”

 

As she faced the rear for another time, she saw a man on a horse, no more than ten feet away from the wagon. He rode a black horse and wore a dark poncho that almost covered the glint shining off the revolvers around his belt. Marinette looked for his face, but it was hidden behind a black mask and a green bandana that was pulled up over his nose and mouth. She found his eyes in the slots of his mask, in return, he gave her a smirk and tilted his hat towards her.

 

The rider tapped their foot against their horse and approached the wagon, extending their hand. Marinette felt her hands tremble are she reached for the rifle lying on the ground next to her. She gripped the metal receiver and pulled it against her chest, poking the barrel over the barrier of the rear end of the wagon. The sunlight reflected back into the mysterious rider’s eyes and he raised his hands, giving the girl a sly grin before backing off from the wagon.

 

“Everything ok back there?” a deep voice spoke from the front.

 

“Yes, father.”

 

She released her grip of the gun and let it slide back onto the floor. She looked down on its stock and tried to read the engraving her father had done. The gun was older than Marinette and the words carved in the wood had become illegible. Several minutes after the rider’s disappearance, Marinette could still feel her heart beating fast. She rested her eyes and tried to calm down, letting the vibrations of the wagon rock her back into relaxation.

 

“Welcome,” An unknown voice shouted from outside the wagon. Marinette grabbed back onto the gun again, this time pressing it against her shoulder. She noticed the wagon stopped and jumped onto the dirt, with her rifle still at the ready. She turned the corner of the wagon, hoping that the rider had not stopped their wagon, only to see a young blonde man standing next to her father in a expensive looking suit. 

 

The young man turned his head to see Marinette pointing a rifle at him and raised his hands towards the sky, keeping his composure. “There’s no need for that here, ma’am, you are perfectly safe.”

 

“Marinette!” her father cried, “put that down.”

 

Marinette stood firm, her heart still racing from her sighting of the mysterious rider. Her father placed his hand on the rifle and pushed it’s barrel down. “I apologize for my daughter’s behaviour, she’s still a bit jumpy from the long travel.”

 

The young man lowered his hands and gave a warm smile to the pair of newcomers. “No problem, sir, we see it all the time.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Yessir-” the young man walked towards Marinette and Tom, “-people get all kinds of jitters while traveling for many days.”

 

The young man looked into Marinette’s eyes and placed his hand on hers, “can I show you around?”

 

A wave of something hit Marinette as her eyes made contact with the green of his, something nice. Her heart was still beating rapidly, but not out of fear. She could feel her breath getting heavier as the warmth of his hand moved to hers.

 

The young man slowly pulled the rifle away from Marinette and handed it to Tom. He extended his hand for Marinette to take. She slowly placed her palm against his and let him close his fingers around her hand. As he walked away, she could feel her feet slowly lifting from the ground. “Marinette, was it?” his sweet voice flowed through the air.

 

“It can be whatever you want it to be,” the words seemed to spill out of her mouth.

 

The young man laughed and his smile sent a dart through Marinette’s heart. “How about I just call you Marinette and you can call me Adrien”

 

“Adrien,” her slurred and breathy words barely made it past her teeth.

 

Adrien’s footsteps stopped abruptly in front of a large house. It’s older wooden supports was barely holding up the three story structure. “So,” Adrien began, “this is my family’s house.”

 

Adrien turned Marinette around and she faced a long and wide street, with buildings of all kinds on both sides. “And this is my family’s town.”

 

“You… you own the entire town?”

 

“Not really, but it’s what my father likes to say.”

 

There was a silence between the two as Marinette found it hard to stay on her two feet as she stared into Adrien’s eyes. “Come on-” Adrien grabbed Marinette’s hand once more, “-your dad probably needs some help getting your new bakery up and running.”

 

“New bakery?”

 

“Did your father not tell you? He bought a little storefront on main street. You want to go help?”

 

“I’ll do anything you want to.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

Marinette recoiled, still holding tight to Adrien’s hand. “I mean...yes?”

 

“Great, let’s go!”

 

Adrien dragged Marinette by the hand down the street with child-like joy. She watched as the smile on his face changed from a slight smile to a full toothed laughter. As Adrien’s feet stopped again, Marinette stopped feeling the ground against her feet and saw the ground starting to come closer to her face. Before she could feel dirt on her face, she felt a warm hand stop her head and slowly lifted it back up.

 

“That was a close one, you alright?”

 

Marinette tried to speak, but the words seemed to stop at her throat, only stutters left her mouth. “Marinette,” Tom’s voice boomed, “how do you like the new shop?”

 

Marinette stopped staring at Adrien and looked at her family's new bakery. The sign that hung above the door was the same one from the east coast, a pink and white sign with a freshly baked loaf of bread in the middle. Aside from the sign, everything was different and none of it felt correct.

 

“Now,” Tom spoke, “I know it’s a bit run down, but we can always fix it up.”

 

Marinette walked in through the door and placed her hand against the wall. She could feel the rickety stability of the building. It felt like she could collapse the whole place in on itself if she pushed a little bit harder. She looked back to her father smiling in the door and at Adrien smiling behind him. She walked towards her father and wrapped her arms around him, “It feels empty.”

 

Tom placed his hands around Marinette and embraced her in a warm hug, “I know, but it will be alright.”

 

“Well,” a voice spoke from outside, “it seems that you have everything sorted out. If you ever need anything and I mean anything, feel free to ask.” 

 

Tom placed his hands on Marinette’s shoulders, “I promise you that everything will work out.”


End file.
